


Let me help you find your dog

by thecannabiskid



Category: Mr. Robot - Fandom
Genre: Flipper gets out and Mr. Robot helps, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 23:09:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecannabiskid/pseuds/thecannabiskid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flipper gets out. Mr. Robot helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let me help you find your dog

**Author's Note:**

> So explicit, no fun facts this time sadly.   
> So this is a part of the Ellibot fics I've been writing. I have a few that aren't connected to these so if it isn't connected I will let you know.

                Shayla’s in Jersey with Angela for the next few days. Gideon gave her some time off. She’s introducing Shayla to her dad. Shayla gave him a key to her place, said he could leave Flipper there while he worked since she won’t shit on her bed. “Don’t worry about it,” she gave him the key. “Maybe you should keep that. Feel safer if you did.” No one’s ever given him a house key before. He just nods.

                “Have a good time,” he says and he sounds uncertain of himself. He hasn’t seen Mr. Robot in a while. Two weeks, actually. He hadn’t known it was possible to crave contact. He’s usually so content being on his own. Flipper and Qwerty are enough. Shayla’s occasional stop by with weed is nice too. He’s on his way to work. He wants to stay home.

                Lloyd is okay. They rarely talk. They have a basic understanding that neither of them likes being vocal. It’s nice. It’s _peaceful_. He can put his headphones in. Sometimes he says something crude and Elliot will look at him. He’ll say it differently, in a less offensive way and it’s nice. “Dungeons and Dragons has gotten really popular,” that’s the topic. He’s been drinking Mountain Dew; he can see the bottle under his desk. Elliot’s in for a very long day.

                He spaces out. He’s sure Lloyd knows but he keeps talking. He’s just gotta get it out of his system, Elliot can understand that. His eyes flick up to the front desk, he keeps looking at the clock there instead of the one on his computer. Convinced it moves slower. He jumps. Mr. Robot. He makes eye contact and gives Elliot a small salute. His heart beats weird; he rubs his hands on his pants before getting up. “I’m gonna go.” He says and Lloyd nods.

                Seven hours of that. Nonstop. It reminds him of Mr. Robot. Walk normal, Elliot. He almost trips and Mr. Robot catches him by the arm. “Can’t believe you still work at this shithole,”

                “Why are you here?” He’s walking out of the office space, Mr. Robot follows him.

                “Meeting.” He’s pressing the elevator button and Mr. Robot hums. Why all of a sudden. It’s been two weeks. Two weeks of the hideout being empty. No sign of anyone. Two weeks of touching himself and not seeing stars. Two weeks of craving basic touch. Two weeks and God they’re the only ones in the elevator. Mr. Robot smells fantastic. “Elliot,” he starts and Elliot is grabbing at him, kissing him the way Shayla told him to. Don’t ask Elliot. It’s lame. Just do it. So he’s doing it. He’s shaking. Awkwardly wraps his arms around his neck and Mr. Robot smiles into it. He feels the hand on his lower back and Mr. Robot is the one to pull back first. The elevator dings and Elliot is breathless.

                “So we’re going to the hideout?” Mr. Robot laughs and gives him a look.

                “Don’t tell me that’s what you’ve been calling it.” Elliot shrugs. “It’s the arcade, kid. This isn’t a Bond movie.” Arcade. Okay,

                The subway is packed. He has to stand and Mr. Robot talks. “You’re doing alright?” He gives him a concerned look. How do you answer that? Alright in general? _No_. Alright over the last two weeks? _No_. Right now? He’s alright right now. “Your mouths open, kid,” his teeth click when his mouth snaps shut and he nods. Mr. Robot smiles at him and fuck, he can’t stop staring.

                He missed him. Fuck. What the fuck. He lets his fingers brush against Mr. Robot’s hand when the person next to him gets up to move. He feels foolish. Mr. Robot doesn’t look at him for the rest of the ride.

                “We’ve got to make another video.” Darlene makes a disgusted noise.

                “No thanks,” she says and she’s leaving. Elliot hasn’t done this before. The rest of the group stares at him. He keeps looking at the Pac-Man machine. Fuck. That had been nice.

                “You’re new,” Romero says. “Good luck kid.” Alone. With Mr. Robot. Nothing’s going to get done.

 

                He’s decently surprised. They get a plan written out. It’s really just Mr. Robot talking and Elliot making faces. That’s it. He’s getting closer to Elliot and he sounds like he’s getting upset. “We have to get this done, Elliot.” He’s shouting now. He’s got his hat off because he kept running his hand over his face, through his hair, kept knocking the hat off his head. Elliot nods. Mr. Robot throws something, Elliot jumps. “We’re fucked.”

                “We’re not fucked.” Elliot says slowly and Mr. Robot’s jaw is locked. “Look,” he picks up some papers on the floor. “That’s all we need, man. We’re done.”

                “We’ve been working for three hours and what we had in the first thirty minutes is all we needed?” The laugh that leaves Mr. Robot is a little hysterical. He looks wild.

                “Sometimes you just gotta talk.” He’s like Lloyd in that respect, sometimes he just needs to talk. It helps. The only difference is Elliot pays attention to Mr. Robot when he speaks. He isn’t paying attention right now. He’s speaking, he’s close to where Elliot is sitting on the counter. He just has to make it another hour, maybe two. He’s not going to get fucked in the arcade again. He nods when Mr. Robot looks at him. “This is good; you’re doing a good job Elliot.” Good job. _Good_. _Job_. Fuck. Is he smiling? _Shit_.

                “Okay.” Mr. Robot looks at him and nods. He made it weird. He could have not said anything.

                “Even out your breathing, kiddo.” Mr. Robot says slowly and Elliot gives him a panicked look. Why is he panicking? He’s very aware of his breathing. His heartbeat. Everything is too fast. He’s usually anxious. Fuck. He feels like he’s going to cry. “Deep breath,” Mr. Robot stands in front of him. Elliot takes a deep breath. Holds it. “Okay, don’t pass out, breathe out kid.” Elliot lets out a sob and Mr. Robot just watches him.

                “Sorry.” His breathing is still fast and Mr. Robot pulls him into a hug, he’s on the edge of the counter. He leans into it, arms at his sides and he can feel Mr. Robot breathing like he mentioned. His body mimics it. He smells good. He presses his face hard against his shoulder and Mr. Robot is rubbing his back. It’s soothing. It’s a onetime thing. He won’t do this again. He won’t let him. Elliot will not allow it if it happens again.

                “You’re okay kid,” he keeps murmuring and Elliot makes a noise. Some type of affirmative. “You’re going to change the world Elliot.” Elliot barely hears him. He _is_ going to change the world. He can’t keep crying. He takes a breath and leans out of Mr. Robot’s hold. He’s left a wet mark on the shoulder of his jacket.

                “Sorry.” Mr. Robot nods.

                “Let me get you home.” He says slowly and Elliot shakes his head.

                “We gotta finish this up.”

                “Know your limits.” He says and Elliot can’t help but think back two weeks ago. _It’s good to know your limits, Elliot._ He doesn’t have one. He’s going to change the world. He can have a limit after he’s changed the world.

                “M’fine.” He doesn’t look at Mr. Robot and the truth is he doesn’t want to go home. He knows Flipper is okay. He’s not. He’s gotta shake this feeling if he’s going to be alone.

 

                God. Mr. Robot is fucking _crazy_. He’s got the mask on. _These are our demands._ The mask is cheap but it’s creepy. Mr. Robot gives it life. Gives this cheap plastic mask character. He turns the camera off and laughs. He’s fucking _crazy._ Elliot loves it. He really is a fucking mess.

                He’s getting off the counter and Mr. Robot takes the mask off. He’s smiling. He probably gets off on this weird shit. Elliot can’t judge. Not after getting fucked in the alley. Mr. Robot is hooking the camera up to the computer. This is Elliot’s job. Fucking with the voice. Deleting all background noise that could possibly give their location away. The final touches. This is why he’s here.

                It’s easy, honestly. He’s assuming the others hate this task because Mr. Robot doesn’t stop talking. “Okay,” he says slowly and he’s hitting play. It looks good. Mr. Robot is leaning over him. Fuck. He’s been half hard most of the day but he doesn’t want to say anything. He doesn’t have to, apparently, because Mr. Robot is kissing him hard.

                “It’s good.” He’s smiling. “Darlene edited the first one but this, this is good.”

                “Do you kiss all your employees?” It comes out flat and Mr. Robot’s smile is gone. He feels like he’s going to throw up. He was joking. Fuck.

                “Romero, once, he said he would shoot me if I ever did it again.” Elliot lets out a startled laugh. Fuck. “Elliot if you aren’t comfortable wi-“

                “I am.” Fuck. He kisses him fast to push his point home. Mr. Robot chases it when Elliot pulls back, drags him back and the chair falls over. He jumps at the noise. Mr. Robot guides him back to the counter, both of them gasping for air.

                “ _Do I kiss all my employees,_ ” He’s laughing and Elliot feels foolish. “Didn’t peg you as someone who would care,”

                “I don’t.” He does. He’s a liar. He swallows and Mr. Robot laughs. Elliot kisses him to shut him up. It’s angry. He bites him.

                Mr. Robot has him slammed over the counter not even three seconds after the bite and Elliot moans. It’s loud. It shakes his bone. Mr. Robot presses against his ass and Elliot grinds back.

                Two weeks without this. His new substitute for morphine.

                “Won’t make you wait as long after this,” Elliot lets out a breathy _okay_ as Mr. Robot gets their pants down.

                The click of the cap, the cold press of fingers, he pushes back into it. He needs it. “Need it,” Elliot rasps and Mr. Robot twists his fingers, has Elliot moaning. His head is turned to the side, palms flat against the counter and his eyes are closed, mouth opened.

                “I know kid,” and he rubs at his prostate and Elliot _whines_. He fucking whines and he hates that he has no self-control.  When he and Shayla fucked that one time she was on top. She’s loud. He gets it, he thinks. Fuck. Stop thinking about Shyla.

                The press of the third finger comes with a bite to the side of his neck. He feels like prey. It feels good.

                “Please,” he breathes and Mr. Robot is removing his fingers. He groans when he hears the foil rip.

                “You sound starved,” Mr. Robot murmurs and that’s the most accurate this he’s heard these last two weeks. _Starved_. The head of his cock rubs against his entrance and he whimpers. Fuck. He’s going to tease him. He fights to stay silent. The head of Mr. Robot’s cock slips into his ass and he lets out a harsh moan. “Jesus kid,” he pulls back, spreads Elliot open and watches the head of his cock slip in and out of his ass. Elliot sounds like he’s dying. “You did so well today Elliot.”

                “Okay,” he groans and he sounds dazed. Mr. Robot snaps his hips forward. Slams all the way home and the noise that leaves Elliot’s mouth is _guttural_. He smacks the counter. Fuck. _Fuck._

                “Shh,” his voice borders a coo and he fucks him hard. Elliot swallows, and fuck, this, _this_ is better than morphine. He can feel himself sweating. He nails his prostate and the jolt that goes through him feels like sticking your finger in a wall socket. He tries to twist away, the pleasure still surging in his veins and Mr. Robot holds him still. “I got you.”

                “S’good,” he slurs and his nerves are buzzing. His cock is leaking a steady stream of precum and he’s drooling. He feels gorked out.

                He starts fucking him again. Builds up the speed until he’s fucking him as fast as before. He can hear him breathing hard. He can’t think straight. Mr. Robot strokes him. One touch. He’s cumming hard. “Fuck,” he almost shouts and Mr. Robot stills behind him. Elliot is practically wheezing. He’s drained. His knees are shaking.

                Mr. Robot pulls out, disposes of the condom and he’s pulling Elliot’s briefs and pants back on. He’s pliant. Fucked out. He has trouble focusing on Mr. Robot.

                “Jesus kid,”

                “Think I died?” He rasps and Mr. Robot lets out a stunned laugh.

                “Breathe,” Elliot nods slowly, makes a face like he hadn’t thought of breathing. He slumps into Mr. Robot. Fuck. He can barely function. “I got ya.”

                It takes him twenty minutes to feel almost normal. Mr. Robot hands him a cigarette and lights it. He’s lying on the counter. Mr. Robot had cleaned his cum off the floor and he drains the smoke. Fuck. “Fuck,” he whispers and Mr. Robot laughs.

                “Think of that as an apology for being MIA for two weeks.” Fuck. What an apology. “I’ll get you home.”  He says and Elliot is getting up.

 

                “You got a little hitch in your giddy up kiddo,” Mr. Robot laughs and Elliot tries to walk normal.

                “You wanna come up? I gotta…. Walk Flipper.” Mr. Robot nods and Elliot’s heart beats weird. Flipper whines. “Sorry,” he says and he picks her up, carries her down the stairs and she pees on him.

                “How long were you gone?” Elliot frowns.

                “Seven at work I think…. Four at the arcade?” Mr. Robot is frowning now. “Don’t usually leave her alone that long.”

                Mr. Robot comes back up. Sits on his couch. _His couch._ “Didn’t peg you as a fish guy.”

                “Hmm?”

                “I can see you having a cat.” Elliot’s taking his jacket off, puts it in the hamper.

                “M’allergic.”

                “Cats are assholes anyways,” Flipper is on the couch next to Mr. Robot. Tail wagging. She’s waiting for him to pet her. “Dogs reflect their owners.”

                “Her owner was an asshole.” He’s just standing there watching him pet Flipper. He’s covered in piss and Mr. Robot is on his couch. Petting his dog.

                “You’re gonna wanna go shower kiddo.” Elliot nods.

 

                He scrubs up. Fuck. He should have asked if he wanted something to drink. Fuck. Fuck. _Fuck_. He shuts the water off. “You know,” Elliot almost slips when he steps out of the shower. Mr. Robot is going through his bathroom cabinet. He didn’t hear him come in. “You should probably be taking your medication, bud.” Elliot gives him an incredulous look. “Do you eat? Have you eaten? There’s nothing in your fridge.” Elliot grabs for a towel. “Kid, you can’t change the world if you don’t take care of yourself.” He moves to look Elliot in the eye. “Elliot. I’m serious.”

                “Had to buy Flipper food,” he needs to cover up. He feels vulnerable. He doesn’t like it.

                “Elliot,” he sounds frustrated and Elliot stares at him.

                “I’ll take care of myself.” He smiles. God let him out of this conversation. He’s grabbing for the towel, wraps it around his waist and Mr. Robot kisses him. Elliot’s face scrunches up.

                “I care about ya kiddo.” Oh. Oh no. He swallows.

                “I’ll try harder.” He whispers and he means it. Fuck. He means it. He really means it. “Do you want coffee?” He gets dressed. Mr. Robot watches him. It’s almost unnerving and he smiles at him when Elliot gives a pointed stare.

                “I can’t stay much longer, kiddo.” He’s making a pot of coffee and he doesn’t say anything. “Hey,” Elliot turns around, leans against the counter and Mr. Robot tilts his head back and places an opened mouth kiss against his neck. He can feel the slick of his tongue and then teeth. Suction. Fuck. He drags his lips against his neck before licking into Elliot’s mouth, gets a soft moan from the young hacker before he pulls back. “Take care of yourself Elliot.” The coffee is done the second the door closes.

               

                He ate breakfast. A handful of dry cereal. That’s a start. It’s been two days and he’s heading home. He got fries. He can take care of himself. He has a session with Krista tomorrow. He stuffs a few fries into his mouth. He’s in a good mood.

                He’s home in time to walk Flipper. He’ll have to buy her dog treats. He feels bad about the other day. He can’t leave her alone that long again.

                He stops cold. The door. Shayla’s door. It’s kicked in. Flipper isn’t inside. He throws up in Shayla’s sink before taking the stairs two at a time. “Flipper?” He’s calling for her on each floor. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He pushes the door to his complex open so hard that it swings back and hits him in the face. “Fuck.” He yells. Hand cupping his face as he thinks, left or right? Which way would she go? Left. He goes left. He _runs_ left. He’s got blood on his face. He takes another left; darts through traffic and almost gets him. That’s his best friend. He heads towards the park. He has to find her.

                “Flipper!” His teeth hurt and he’s crying. A few people look at him as he rubs his face with the back of his hand. “Flipper!”

                “Christ, Elliot?” He whips around. It’s Darlene. “Who beat your ass?”

                “Not now,” he warns and she’s next to him.

                “Jesus guy,” she laughs. “What’s the other guy look like? Didn’t take you as someone who liked to start shit.” He looks around her.

                “Kiddo, fuck.” It’s Mr. Robot. He pushes past Darlene and Mr. Robot looks at him. “You look like shi- Elliot.” His voice is low when he sees how wide Elliot’s eyes are and Elliot lets out a sob.

                “Some-someone,” his voice is shaking. He swallows and Mr. Robot steers him to a bench. “Flipper got out,” he can’t even understand himself but Mr. Robot is up in an instant.

                “Darlene,” she makes a noise of disgust, arms crossed like she doesn’t want to be bothered.

                “I’m sorry someone kicked your favorite dogs ass,” she starts and Mr. Robot lets out an annoyed laugh.

                “His dog got out. Go look for her.” Elliot can hear him trying not to yell. He must have taken a liking to Flipper.

                “How am I supposed to know where his dog is, hey,” she snaps her fingers in Elliot’s face. “Where do you walk her I need details.”

“Ne-near the subway.”

                “Which one dude?”

                “Near my place.” Darlene heads off and Mr. Robot crouches in front of him.

                “How’d you manage that, kid?” Elliot swallows another sob, looks around slow before rolling his eyes.

                “Push-pushed the door too hard.”

                “Doesn’t look broken.” He says and he lights up a spliff. “To take the edge off.” Elliot takes a hard pull. Fuck. Did he get this from Romero? It’s good. Mr. Robot presses his mouth to Elliot’s, pulls the smoke from his lungs and taps the joint out. He can taste his blood on his lips. Elliot blinks slowly and the smoke blows through Mr. Robot’s nose. “Let’s go find your dog, kiddo.” He’s still crying. He can’t stop. “She’s my best friend.” Fuck. He sniffles. He needs to get it together.

               

They turn left; it’s starting to get dark. “Have to find her.” Elliot says and Mr. Robot is a calming presence as they look and call for Flipper.

“We’re gonna find her.” He says and Elliot’s face hurts. His head hurts. He looks at Mr. Robot. “I promise kid.”

It’s almost two in the morning and they head back to Elliot’s apartment. He’s crying. “Just a little longer,” he sobs and Mr. Robot hushes him.

“Need to get you cleaned up.” He says softly.

“No.” Elliot stops walking. Hands balled up at his sides.

“Elliot,”

“No.”

“Elliot,” he raises his voice. “We need to clean you up.” Mr. Robot watches Elliot’s face crumble. It starts with his eyes. They squeeze shut. His bottom lip wobbles. Then he sobs. “Kid, shh, hey,” he touches Elliot’s arm, “don’t cry kiddo, we’ll find her.”

                He lets Mr. Robot take him home. He helps Elliot out of his bloodied clothes. “Arms up kid,” Elliot looks up at him. He looks defeated. Devastated. Lonely. He lifts Elliot’s shirt up and over his head. Pulls off his shoes and socks. He pulls cotton swabs from a bag in a first aid kit in the cabinet. The rubbing alcohol burns. He called Shayla when they got there. She told him to use duct tape to close the door. She’d be back tomorrow with Angela.

                “Ouch,” Elliot winces. The door left a nasty gash on his forehead.

                “Gonna stay with you for the night.” It isn’t a question. Elliot doesn’t move and Mr. Robot patches him up. Cleans the blood off his face he’s falling asleep to the sound of Mr. Robot humming. “Come on,” he murmurs and Elliot looks at him. “Pajamas? You wear anything to bed?” He’s unbuckling his pants and Mr. Robot helps him stand. He steps out of his pants and Mr. Robot helps him get into bed.

                He’s going to sleep on the couch but Elliot is shoving the blankets on the other half of the bed down. Mr. Robot pulls off layers of clothes and Elliot watches. Just his boxers. He slides into Elliot’s bed. He smells good. Like the expensive cologne. It sticks to his skin. He hopes it sticks to his sheets.

He had wondered before what it would be like to wake up next to Mr. Robot. Comfortable. It feels normal.  

He’s gotten three hours of sleep. He’s getting out of bed. “Kid,” Mr. Robot yawns and Elliot looks at him. “Come here.” He’s reluctant. He’s tired. He needs to find Flipper. Mr. Robot smiles at him. “Fine,” he gets up and Elliot swallows hard. Fuck. It’s pretty dark and Mr. Robot is getting dressed. He just needs to say thank you. Easy. Thank. _You._ Mr. Robot looks at him. “You okay?” Thank you. With his _words_. Not with his _mouth_ on his _dick_.

                “You, I,” nope. Fuck.

                “Relax kid, we’re gonna find the dog.” Elliot kisses him. Thank you. He wraps his arms around his neck. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. He pulls back and Mr. Robot clears his throat. “Get dressed.”

               

                He’s exhausted. His face is bruised. Mr. Robot keeps bumping into him. They walk past the alley they fucked in. Elliot focuses on finding Flipper. “Think she’s okay?” He looks at Mr. Robot who nods.

                “If she had to endure that dick you took her from, she should be fine.” Reassurance. He feels relieved if only a little. Flipper will be okay. Has to be okay.

                “Where do you live?”

                “Kid we’ve been over thi-“ he gives Elliot a look.

                “Flipper likes you, it’s a shot in the dark,” he says softly and Mr. Robot frowns.

                “You can’t tell the others.” He says and Elliot nods.

 

                He was right. Flipper is sleeping on the stairs that lead up to complex. He’s crying. “Thank God.” He breathes and Flipper stretches out on the step.

                “You got work today kid?” Elliot nods. “I’ll watch her.” Elliot is standing up and kissing him. He’s careful of his nose. “Okay,” he murmurs and Elliot pulls back. Fuck. He rubs his eyes. “Just this once, okay?” Elliot nods. Mr. Robot doesn’t invite him up. He takes Flipper and tells Elliot to get his ass to work. So he does.

                Lloyd is quiet. Gideon grills him about his face. “The door swung back.” Gideon gives him a look like he doesn’t believe him. He finishes early. Heads home and Shayla’s there.

                “What kind of fucking asshole does this?” She’s mad. “I didn’t hear Flipper barking, is she okay?” Elliot nods.

                “She’s with someone for the day.” Shayla smiles. Nods at the mark on his neck.

                “She with whoever did that?” He freezes up and Shayla’s smile gets even bigger, “She is!”

                “Shayla,” his voice is a warning.

                “What, we fucked, we’re _friends_ , Elliot. Friends tease each other.” She winks at him. He’s gonna have to wear his collar popped up if this keeps happening. Like the eighties. Fuck that.

                “Okay.” She shakes her head.

                “So, Sunshine’s dad is nice.” She says and Elliot follows her into her apartment.

                He has to meet Krista soon. She tells him about the trip to Jersey. It’s nice. She shows him pictures. He hasn’t seen these. It’s nice.

 

                Mr. Robot meets him outside the building Krista works in. “Long day kiddo?” He must look like shit. Running on three hours of sleep after a six hour work day and the bruising on his face probably doesn’t help. He nods. Takes the leash from Mr. Robot. He can’t say thank you. His mouth can’t form around the words and Mr. Robot walks him back to his apartment. He carries Flipper when she decides she’s done walking.

                “Should get going,” Elliot nods slowly. Fuck. He knows he’s thankful, right? Fuck. He sets Flipper down and grabs Mr. Robots hand when he turns to walk away.

                “Wanted to,” he has a lump in his throat. He gives him a quick kiss and looks at him.

                “Don’t worry about it kiddo,” He waves and walks away. Elliot heads up the stairs. Flipper in his arms.

                Flippers okay. He’s okay. It’s going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Darlene is gonna be in more of these fics because I fucking love her. I love her and she reminds me of Kat Dennings and I love her too. Also Shayla and Angela are my one true ship and Shayla calls Angela Sunshine and I constantly hurt myself. Why Shayla, why not Ollie smh.  
> I'm assuming Mr. Robot is the one making the videos idk he looks crazy enough to be doing it im sure he is idk they make it a group project it's hacker bonding time the fuck if I know. I'm sure Mr. Robot isn't super great with tech tho, like he probably can pick locks and knows some basic stuff but he just comes up with cocked up plans that everyone has to tweak so they don't murder a ton of people.  
> U can find me on tumblr @moira-af


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